


Listening for Storms

by lifevolutionary



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Drabble, Gen, Pre-Slash, Translation Available, 中文翻译 | Translation in Chinese
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-10
Updated: 2012-05-10
Packaged: 2017-11-05 02:58:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/401705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lifevolutionary/pseuds/lifevolutionary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It meant sitting in the Library listening to the storm outside and the gentle tapping of Finch’s fingers on his keyboard.</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Two drabbles because it's raining excessively outside (and when you live in Wales that's saying something) and I've been marathoning Person of Interest instead of revising.</p><p><a href="http://sallycinnamon.lofter.com/post/2e556a_cdcce5">Now translated into Chinese</a> by <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/areinal">Areinal</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Listening for Storms

For most of his life John Reese hated rain. Hated the lack of it that meant he was behind enemy lines in a foreign country. Then hated it as a reminder that he was behind enemy lines in his own. 

Now, rain often meant a break from the numbers, as criminals stayed in and crime rates dropped. It meant sitting in the Library listening to the storm outside and the gentle tapping of Finch’s fingers on his keyboard.

It meant companionable silence and a chance to settle his thoughts as he cleaned his guns.

It meant not being alone anymore.

" " " " "

For most of his life Harold Finch liked rain. Liked sitting inside reading, listening to it against the glass. Liked watching it fall as he worked on the machine. Liked the solitude it created.

Now, rain meant aching pain. The damp weather working its way into his bones, making him stiff.

But occasionally it meant John pausing as he passed behind him and reaching out. It meant strong, sure fingers placed just so against his spine with gentle pressure. It meant a temporary surcease from pain as John silently moved on. It meant touch.

Sometimes, Finch still liked the rain.


End file.
